by Selena Scott
“Rube,” he said through a voice laced with the beginnings of pain. “Do you see that?”
His eyes were focused on something just over her shoulder. Ruby glanced quickly behind her and then back to Griff, her attention focused on him. But then, what she’d seen slowly registered and Ruby found herself doing the mother of all double takes.
The small waterfall that fed into the lagoon was… glowing. Amber gold and absolutely incandescent.
Ruby rose to her feet and turned to stare when something large and wet brushed past her.
“Griff!” she started; he was moving quickly. Considerably faster than he was ever able to when he was in the first throes of one of his migraines.
But she could barely keep up.
“Griff, wait!” she hollered at him as he jogged toward the glowing waterfall. She caught up to him, grabbed his shoulder, swung him around to face her, and barely recognized her little brother. The boy she’d damn near raised. His face was dazed and somehow looked both pained and calm at the same time. His features were both lax and tight. And she knew, without knowing, that his eyes were unseeing. He was gazing at that waterfall like it was otherworldly.
Something cold and quick zipped up Ruby’s spine and she called his name again. But he didn’t hear her.
He merely shook her off of him with strength she didn’t know he had. And then he wasn’t jogging, he was full on sprinting toward the waterfall. Water droplets flung off of him, catching the sunlight on their way into the air as he closed the distance.
Ruby was right behind him, but not quite fast enough. Just one yard behind him. Inches really. And it would be that that would haunt her in the months to come. How close she’d been to being able to grab him again.
But she wasn’t close enough. Because Griff ducked his head, reached out his arms and dove into the waterfall.
Ruby full on screamed as one second he was there and the next second he wasn’t. She reached the waterfall one second after he did and she plunged her hands into the water first, looking for a handhold that would help her step through the water and into whatever cave Griff had just dove into. But her hands didn’t find a handhold. They found a solid sheet of rock.
She screamed her brother’s name and broke fingernails as she scraped her hands through the falling water, searching and searching for whatever hole he’d disappeared into. But she’d found nothing.
And neither did the cops who eventually came. And neither did the hunting dogs who combed the mountains for him. And neither did the men who dragged the lagoon for his body. No one found a thing.
Which is how Ruby Sayers found herself one hundred percent alone in this world. Living on the outskirts of a town full of people who started giving her real funny looks. Those of them that would look her in the face, that is.
Ruby didn’t care. She cared about nothing. Her brother was gone. Just like her parents were gone. Disappeared into nothing. Just like the light of the golden waterfall the second it closed around Griff.
CHAPTER ONE
Ansel Keto didn’t consider himself to be a complicated man. Sure, there were plenty of things about him that would make most folks’ mouths drop open–one thing in particular–but besides that, he was just a regular man. With a regular man’s needs. He liked to work hard at something physical every day, which was why carpentry suited him just fine. And he liked to relax in a quiet place with something cool to drink every night. Which was why his two-room cabin up in the Catskills suited him just fine. The porch was perfect for sitting and the view was perfect for looking.
He was aware that most people viewed him as a rather slow man. And that didn’t bother him at all. He and his three siblings had a pretty juicy secret that they chose to keep to themselves. Each of them had chosen a different way of coping with such a burden, and a different way of throwing folks off the scent.
Ansel was mostly quiet, patient and methodical and therefore people around here considered him to be one of the duller hatchets in the shed. It never occurred to them that that particular persona was a great way to keep private matters private. It simply didn’t compute for anyone that Ansel Keto might have deep waters.
His younger twin sisters, Milla and Inka, on the other hand, had very different ways of hiding their, occasionally literal, tracks. Milla was extremely orderly, businesslike and severe. Both of them were identically, breathtakingly beautiful, but people barely got a chance to see it in Milla. She was too busy rushing from place to place, barking into her cellphone or orchestrating grand business mergers filled with this and that. Things that Ansel had no earthly interest in. People tended to avoid Milla. It was said she could raise the blood pressure of anyone within 100 paces.
Inka, on the other hand, was the daffy one. The wild child, but not in the typical way of young women. While some girls were off getting sweaty in the back seats of cars, Inka was off eating a burrito and counting stars, watching and re-watching old movies, knee deep in a creek and catching frogs. She was the type who sang to herself in public, laughed too loud when she thought something was funny, and dressed in whatever clothes happened to be closest to her hands. People tended to give her quite a wide berth.
And last but not least was Kain. The baby. Goofy, loose and lovable. There wasn’t a heart in a hundred-mile radius that hadn’t trembled over that smile of his. The biggest flirt in five counties, not one person who cozied up to Kain Keto ever realized that never once did he reveal a personal detail about himself. He could charm the stripes off a zebra, and not a soul realized that the young man was simply hiding in plain sight.
And so things had gone for them, ever since their parents had passed away. Each of them had a way to pass the time. They saw one another when they could, Milla less often than the rest, as she spent the weekdays in Manhattan and commuted back out to the Catskills for the weekends. They each had their own little niche in the world, their own trade. But nothing was as important as one another.
Which was why Ansel found himself packing up his tools just a touch earlier than he might have liked that Thursday night. It was his turn to make dinner for Inka and Kain, and to be late would mean that everybody was just a touch grumpier than they had to be. Something he wouldn’t mind avoiding.
He sighed as he eyeballed the intricate, and very boring, bookshelf he’d been contracted to build for one Ms. Arla Weaver. He suspected two things: 1. That Ms. Arla Weaver had a bit of a sweet spot for him. And 2. That she’d designed this bookshelf to be as painstaking a job as possible to keep Ansel on the job as many days as possible.
Normally, he would have turned down a job like this without blinking. Not his particular taste. But Ms. Arla Weaver happened to have the good fortune of living just down the mountain from Ms. Ruby Sayers. And there was something inside Ansel that just liked being close to Ruby Sayers.
He’d done a bit of work for her, right when she’d come to town, and dang if she hadn’t hooked him.
There was something about that long, messy red braid she liked to wear all down her back. That smudge of red lipstick on her lips. All those flowery red dresses. All that dang red. She even smelled red. Don’t ask him to explain it. It just was. Something about it. Oh, and those blue eyes that were twice the size of everybody else’s. Those didn’t hurt either.
He’d wanted to ask her to take a walk with him, back when he’d been on the job with her. But judging from the way she could barely look him in the eye, and from the sheer number of things she knocked over the second he came into any room, he figured she would have said no.
He’d let her be. There was nothing wrong with letting a woman get her feet under her in a new place. And besides, she was a single parent, and all alone except for her younger brother up in that house. The last thing he’d wanted was to make her uncomfortable. But right around the time he’d figured she’d gotten enough of her bearings around here to know whether or not she’d want to get some bearings with him, her brother had disappeared.
And damn if that boy had
n’t gotten himself good and lost. It was an unsolved mystery around here, one that Ansel couldn’t exactly speak to. Except when he spoke up on her behalf to all the nosy Nancies who wanted to talk about anything and everything. Including whether or not Ruby Sayers had done away with her burden of a brother and hidden him somewhere nobody would ever find him in the mountains.
Ansel knew for two reasons why that was categorically untrue. 1. He’d spent four months fixing up their house and he’d seen the two of them together. As a brother who very much loved his siblings, he recognized what he saw between Ruby and Griff. Genuine affection. Happiness. A real joy in one another’s presence. She’d never lay a finger on that boy and Ansel would have sworn it under oath if anybody had asked him to.
The other reason was that he’d been to the spot where the boy had disappeared. He’d heard the news and followed the scent out there even before the hunting dogs had. Her story was true, even if it wasn’t believable. Griff’s scent stopped cold right at the waterfall. Went no further. Now Ansel had spent a good minute at the site, searching for other scents as well. Scents that a regular old hound couldn’t smell. But Ansel and his siblings could. Fear. Pain. The scent of regret. Fury. Rage. Death, which happens to have a very identifiable scent. Things that might accompany a murder.
Besides a strong dose of Ruby’s fear right by the waterfall, he didn’t pick up on much else. Either she was a cold-blooded sociopath, which he knew she wasn’t because he could hear her pulse racing every time he came close to her, or she hadn’t killed her brother.
And that’s why the Keto siblings often found themselves in the position of defending Ruby Sayers in the town of Green Mills, New York. Even if the only member of the Keto family that Ruby had ever exchanged a word with was Ansel. All of them did their part. Because all of them despised the rumor mill equally. Considering all of them had an equally large secret to hide from that very rumor mill.
Ansel sighed, realizing that said secret was currently pawing at the figurative glass inside of him, and needed to stretch his legs. He finished packing up his tools, heard Ms. Arla Weaver clacking around in her kitchen, and was out the door like a shot.
Any day that he could get out the door without her feeling on his bicep was a good day in his book. The woman gave Ansel the willies. He was in his truck, backing out of the driveway, when Ms. Weaver appeared on her front porch, hands on her hips and frowning. He knew he was gonna get a talking to about leaving without saying goodbye when he showed up for work tomorrow. But it was worth it to get out of dodge with nothing more than a wave out the open window.
Though it was the opposite direction from his house, Ansel found himself driving toward Ruby Sayers’s driveway. He liked to take just one peek every day, make sure that everything was in order. It always was. Even in her considerable grief over her brother, she’d never let her house go to seed. He was pleased to see a few rows of, you guessed it, red tulips lined up in the front garden beds.
Nice. He thought that was nice. That she was keeping a garden again. As he cruised slowly down the road, he craned his neck back behind him. Now, her mailbox was a bit rusty. That wouldn’t do. Maybe he’d bring her by a new one. Offer to–
“SHIT!” Ansel shouted as he turned back to face front, slamming on the brakes and skidding on the loose gravel road. His truck came to a juddering stop not more than two feet from Ms. Ruby Sayers herself. She stood, stock still, in the middle of the road, her eyes even bigger than usual.
One of her typical red dresses swirled around her knees, her crimson lipstick startlingly bright against the pale white her skin had just gone. She blinked and blinked again at the grille of the truck that had nearly mowed her right down.
Ansel was out of the truck like a shot, landing his hands on her shoulders as he skidded to a stop in front of her.
“Ms. Sayers. Jesus. Are you alright?” he asked in that deep, clenched-jawed rumble that he used.
Ruby didn’t look at the man who was currently towering over her. Her eyes stayed glued to the truck that had really looked like it was about to bring her to the maker.
“Ms. Sayers?” Ansel tried again. He dragged one hand down her arm, straight to her ice-cold hand. The other hand he lifted to her face and roughly pulled down the bottom of one eye and then the other. Looking for what, he had no idea. But it was something he’d seen people do after someone had experienced a considerable trauma.
Ruby furrowed her brow and batted his hand away from her, apparently startled out of her reverie. She tugged her hand out of his and took a step back. She didn’t like having to crane her head all the way back just to see the man’s face. It made him seem even larger than life than he already was.
“I guess,” she started and was dismayed to hear the tremor in her typically husky voice. “I guess you didn’t see me there.”
“I was looking at the rust on your mailbox.” It was a dumb thing to say. He knew it, she knew it. But there it was. What a time to be earning his reputation as a slow man. Right when he finally had Ruby Sayers’s ear for the first time in years.
“Oh.” She furrowed her brow again and took another step back. “I probably shouldn’t have been in the road anyways, I guess. I could have just waited for your truck to pass.”
“No,” he said as he took a helpless step toward her, trying to close just a bit of the distance she always seemed so intent on putting between them. “It was my fault, Ms. Sayers. One hundred percent. I apologize.”
Ruby took a deep breath and tried to look him in the eye. She got about chin level, to that well-kept blond beard of his, and found that was the best she could do. “Why do I always feel like you’re one second away from calling me ma’am?”
She watched as his lips formed a sort of half smile and her eyes dropped, of their own accord, to his chest. Well, that wasn’t safe either, she noted. The man was wearing a V-neck t-shirt. And two very prominent muscles were peeking out of the V. Not to mention the edge of whatever tattoo he kept on his chest. The ground, then. Yes. That was the safest place to be looking right now. The ground.
“Maybe because I am?” he replied. He shrugged, though she didn’t see. “Our parents really believed in good manners.”
She watched the toes of his rather large, rather dusty boots. They didn’t move or scuffle. Just held perfectly still.
Ruby darted her eyes up to his face and then away before she could distinguish any particular feature. He was just a tanned, trimmed, blond blur. She knew that if she let her eyes settle, she’d find a fine face, with a prominent brow over two bright green eyes. And sort of a big nose. Which she’d always liked about him. It kept him from having model good looks. And put him right into human territory.
It didn’t do much to keep her heart rate down, though, which always seemed to beat out of control whenever Ansel Keto was around. Something about him just had her on high alert. Maybe it was the way he smelled, like cedar and a nice, cool evening. Or maybe it was that he always seemed to have just the finest sheen of sweat over all that muscular, tanned body. Or maybe it was the way he watched her. For as rarely as she could bring her eyes to his, she knew he didn’t have the same problem. The man watched her like a hawk whenever he was close enough to see her.
Made her nervous.
Ruby took in a shaky breath and rubbed her sweaty palms down over the skirt of her flowy, red dress.
“Ms. Sayers–” he started, just as she was taking a step around him to get back toward her house. But he cut off when one of her traitorous knees buckled.
Ruby found herself caught against his side, one huge paw of his curled firmly around her elbow.
“I’m alright,” she insisted as she regained her footing. “I’m alright.”
She pulled forward and his hand fell away as she wobbled toward her front porch. She could hear by the crunch of gravel under his boots that he was following her. She wanted to go inside and collapse onto her comfortable living room couch, but the thought of Ansel Keto standing in her sma
ll house, boots and sweaty skin and V-neck and all those muscles, well, her gut clenched and she found herself choosing to sit on the steps of the front porch. He sat right beside her.
“Ms. Sayers,” he started again, but she cut him off, waving one hand in the air.
“Ruby.”
He paused, cleared his throat. “Ruby. I’m so sorry about that, with the truck. I know it must have scared the life out of you.”
She waved her hand through the air again in lieu of words. It had, in fact, scared her, but she wanted him to stop apologizing.
“Please, let me make it up to you. My family is having dinner in about half an hour. Come over.”
She paused and dragged one of those red lips between her teeth. Ansel noted that none of the color came off on those pearly white teeth of hers. What kind of woman magic was that? A soft breeze blew through the trees around them. It was the full bloom of summer and everything was hazy and warm. They could both smell the red tulips that fanned out in her flower beds.
“I already have dinner all ready inside. Thank you, though.”
There was something in her voice, more than her words, which told him not to push. He wasn’t much of a pusher anyhow. Live and let live. That was Ansel Keto’s motto. He just wished Ruby Sayers would be a little more inclined to live a little closer to where he lived. Figuratively speaking.
He rose up and jumped down off the porch steps; he didn’t want to loom over her. He’d learned that she didn’t much like that. Some women did, but not Ruby Sayers. “If you’re sure that you’ll be alright. That there’s nothing I can do…”
She shook her head. “It was nothing, Mr. Keto–”
“Ansel,” he interrupted immediately. “If I’m calling you Ruby, then you’re calling me Ansel.”
For reasons he couldn’t quite interpret, that brought a rosy blush to her cheeks, but she nodded. “Really, it was just an accident, Ansel. And nothing happened anyways. It’s all fine. I’m fine.”
